


Make Love, Not War

by SallShake



Category: Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor (Video Games), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dry Humping, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Held Down, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mordor, Orcs, Rough Sex, restrained
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SallShake/pseuds/SallShake
Summary: Talion learns about peaceful conflict management.........and other things.
Relationships: Human/Orc, Talion/original male character, Talion/uruk
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Make Love, Not War

Talion raced after the uruk. He'd been chasing it for quite some time, long enough that his legs were beginning to grow heavy with fatigue. Beads of sweat rolled off the sides of his face and chin. Even with the unnatural endurance his wraith side had gifted him, it felt as if he had run across Mordor and back twice. He was extremely impressed with the uruk. It had led him through a caragor den, a graug's cave (which had made him run a bit faster), and an outpost full of drunken berserkers. Truly, a trek for the ages. He was almost tempted to let the grey-skinned worm go, and maybe have himself a well-deserved rest. But the voice in the back of his mind kept urging him onward.

"Faster, Talion. You're slowing down," hissed Celebrimbor.

"I am not," Talion spat back at him, realizing that yes, he was. 

"It's only a matter of time before it tires," he continued. The uruk jumped a small boulder, or rather, scrambled desperately over one. Talion followed suit, just as exhausted. The uruk looked back at the sorry sight and laughed between its heaving breaths, which Talion found quite hypocritical seeing as he was in much the same, sorry state. The ranger had to hold back his own bark of laughter when paying no attention to its path, the uruk tripped on a tree root and was sent flying forward. Summoning what energy he had left, Talion rushed ahead and threw himself on top of his quarry. The uruk choked on a shout when the weight hit its back, the side of its face being pushed into the dirt by a gloved hand. It lurched right, breaking the man's hold and landing a kick to his stomach. Talion snapped his teeth together and sucked air, feeling something shift painfully inside him. The uruk's eyes lit up with malicious glee, obviously proud of itself. 

Talion scowled and drove a knee into the worm's inner thigh, barely missing his delicates. _That_ wiped any hint of amusement from the uruk's face. It snarled and spat a glob of saliva at the man, hitting him square in the eye. Talion recoiled with a gasp, wiping frantically at the discolored spittle. Sensing an opportunity, the uruk shimmied away and crawled to its knees. It had almost gotten back up when Talion threw it to the ground once more, with noticeably greater force. Talion had the uruk on it back this time, wrists pulled down and pressed hard against the ground. He straddled the uruk, legs on either side of it, while he sat on top of it chest. Talion flipped back his head, trying to unstick his hair from his sweaty face. Every bit of him was slick and warm, and the clothes under his armor had been soaked through with the sweat from the chase. After years of living in Mordor, he had grown accustomed to its hot afternoons, and sweltering weather. A bit of dampness here and there, that was not uncommon. But _this_ was unbearable. The metal chest plate he wore made it all the worse. He felt like a frog trapped in a boiling kettle.

Talion heaved with each deep breath he took, trying to regain his composure before he began the task at hand. While he huffed, he glared daggers down at the uruk. It stared back, a smug grin on its face. 

"Where," said Talion, voice low and flat, "is Mozfel hiding?" His hands squeezed the uruk's wrists threateningly, daring them to try and rip free. His catch only chuckled in return.

"And what makes you think I'll tell you, hmm?" said the uruk. 

Talion sighed. It was always worth a shot. 

He grabbed the uruk's head, fingers pressing deep into the side of its face. He drew upon the cold stream of Celebrimbor's power and directed it into his prisoner's mind. The uruk's mouth gaped open, and its eyes drew back until only the whites could be seen. Talion looked down grimly. Had he been a lesser man, he may have let the current run a bit stronger and watched the uruk shiver under its chill. He _had_ given the ranger a great deal of trouble. Pushing the temptation aside, Talion closed his eyes and thrust himself into the uruk's mind. The flow carried him far past the freshly made memories. As he delved, he heard the uruk's frantic, half-assembled thoughts. 

_"The fuck is 'e doing?!"_   
_"Cold!"_   
_"Why is 'e sitting on my-"_

Talion slammed into a wall. He gasped in pain, trying to keep the connection from breaking. His whole psyche had been rocked by the impact. Protecting the deepest part of the uruk's mind was a barrier, one which the stream crashed against, but could not break. Talion withdrew himself and restrained his prisoner once more. His head throbbed violently.

Talion leaned back on the uruk, groaning. That was just his luck. The fastest orc in Mordor, and with a pad-locked mind to boot. Celebrimbor appeared beside him, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"This one is proving difficult, I see?" he said. As always, he held a disdainful glare. 

"So it would seem. It’s full of surprises,” responded Talion bitterly. The elf wraith put a hand to his chin and walked around the ranger, eyes dark with frustration.

"I suppose you could brute force your way in," he suggested, "but you might break what's inside doing that. This intel, I think, is a bit too precious to chance that." 

Talion nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'll leave you to come up with something," said Celebrimbor, rather curtly. Talion nodded again, then realizing the wraith's words-

"Hold on now, you're just going to-" before he could finish, the elf had disappeared, leaving him alone and straddling the uruk.

Talion wracked his brain for what to do. Obviously, he could not kill the uruk or flood its mind. There _were_ the more... unsavory methods of extraction. He'd watched enemy uruks "encourage" books worth of information out of spies before, some of them being his own. But he wasn't sure he had the heart for that sort of business. Lopping off an uruk's head was one thing. Pulling out fingernails and burning legs with pokers was another. 

As he pondered, a small pressure began to form against his backside, something pushing up from underneath him. Half-aware, he wiggled his bottom against the mysterious object, trying to get an idea of what-

Talion nearly leaped off the uruk when he realized where he'd been sitting. He mustn't have noticed himself sliding down its body. He looked at his prisoner, face hot and ruddy. Well, more so than before. 

"Oh come on Gravewalker," said the uruk, "ya know I can't control that. 'Specially when you're rubbing 'yer arse on me."

Talion, who was struggling to comprehend the fact that he had very well been "rubbing his arse" on the poor uruk, could not find any words to say. Instead, he stared dumbly down at his catch. Talion prayed that the earth would split beneath them both, and swallow them up. Or perhaps, a passing caragor pride would be thoughtful enough to come along and gore them to death. He hoped for anything that would get him out of the situation he had fallen into.

_Or_ , he thought glumly, _sat on_. 

The uruk winked at him.

"Didn't say ya had to stop." 

He had never thought of orcs as sexual beings before, not like men, elves, or dwarves. Sure, he'd had a few yell some rather... questionable things at him before, but he had always chalked it up to them trying to rattle him, nothing genuine. Now, he wasn't so certain. 

"Tell ya what. Ya help me out with my little... _problem_ , and I tell ya what I know 'bout Mozfel. Everything." 

"I-well..." Talion sputtered. Celebrimbor appeared next to him just as suddenly as he had vanished a minute prior. His shriveled face was stretched into a cold look of revulsion.

"TALION, _NO._ " The elf's voice boomed in Talion's ears, shaking him to his core. He nearly fell off the uruk. 

"You will not go selling your body to orcs for a snippet of intel, do you hear me? You will not. _You will not!_ " He hissed, pointing a bony finger at the ranger.

_It isn't as if I haven't shared this body before,_ thought Talion. _It isn't as if others haven't used it for their own needs, either,_ he continued. Celebrimbor was certainly guilty of it, though not in a carnal regard. An image of himself and the wraith coupling suddenly appeared in his mind, nearly bringing Talion to gag. He cursed himself for thinking up something so vile. Somehow, Celebrimbor seemed a worse proposed partner than the one before him. At least the uruk was alive.

Talion was about to move off his catch and be on his way. The information it held was priceless, yes, but he had no real desire to shag the creature. Besides that, Celebrimbor was being more grating than his usual, prickly self. Mozfel would have to wait until the next worm came along. Celebrimbor groaned and shook his head, still reeling.

"I know you are but a man, Talion. And men, yes, are known to be weak in times of bodily temptation, but even this is beneath you. Don't give in to your baser instincts this time, at least. I let you indulge enough as is."

For one reason or another, his words kept Talion on the uruk. He was used to the biting remarks regarding his race. He supposed feelings of superiority must come naturally to elves, what with their long lives and golden sticks up their arses. But to accuse him of being inclined to fuck an orc? One of Sauron's lovely little foot soldiers? It struck a nerve. 

Filled with spite, he smiled down at the uruk.

"You know what?" he said, voice sardonically chipper, "I believe I shall take you up on your offer. Seems more than fair to me." 

Besides him, Celebrimbor shrieked. Below him, the uruk blinked incredulously.

"R-really? Didn't think I'd get this far, if I'm ta be honest." murmured the worm. Suddenly, its face lit up. "Skai! You tarks got blunt teeth, yea? Nothing to snag on. Does that mean that-"

Talion's grip on the uruk increased ten-fold, threatening to crush the wrists in his hands.

"If you think anything is going in my mouth, you are wrong." 

Celebrimbor, still working through his fit, had enough sense to thank Talion for refusing the uruk that, at least. The uruk flinched from the pain, but mostly from the biting tone the ranger had used.

"Alright, okay, okay, don't needa be so mean 'bout it, was just thinking aloud here..." it said. Talion rolled his eyes and peered behind him at the tent in his captive's britches. It was still there. He swore under his breath. 

"Just-" Talion faltered and took a quick look around him. The trees were still, and the air carried no voices on it. Celebrimbor, he found, was missing from his side. Off sulking somewhere, probably. _Good_. He was in no need of an audience. 

"-just be quiet and let me do this."

Wasting no time, Talion sat his bottom back on top of the uruk so that there was a firm yet yielding pressure on its groin. He could have sworn he felt the stiffness beneath him pulse when he first rubbed moved it. He rolled his body against the bulge awkwardly, unsure if it was doing any good. Talion glanced at the uruk, gauging its reaction. The creature beneath him was staring up at the sky, eyes half-lidded with delight. Talion moved again, this time a bit quicker and with more confidence. The uruk let out a moan before stifling itself. He thought he saw a flash of embarrassment cross its face. _How sobering,_ thought Talion, _the uruk is bashful._ He had half a mind to make a remark on blushing virgins to the creature, but thought better of it. He didn't know how he felt about being the teasing one. It might give a false impression that he was enjoying what he was doing. 

Talion reminded himself, rather harshly, that he was _not_ enjoying what he was doing. He reminded himself of it after each trip he made up and down, across the uruk's stiffness. When the reminders stopped working, he looked back down to the creature, hopeful that its frightful form would make him come to his senses. It was fair to say it did the opposite. 

In the stupor of its own pleasure, the creature looked almost calm. Its wrinkled, twisted face was softened as it made little "ohs" and "ahs" with its mouth. Its shifting expressions of passion reminded Talion of the woodcuts he'd jokingly bought for Ioreth when he was a young man. They were a collection of sensual scenes, each depicting a different carnal act, and each with characters whose faces showed just how good they felt. Personally, he'd thought the chap in "Milkmaid milks the Farmer" to be having the best time. Ioreth had blushed and pushed him away when he said that. The memory gave him an idea.

He let go of one of the uruk's wrists and began toying with the laces on its britches. It was troublesome trying to undo them with one hand, but it wasn't long before Talion had broken into his captive's pants and snaked his fingers over the swollen prize that lay within.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first half. The second half will be out soon. Sorry for any typos/errors that I missed.


End file.
